Where Cherry Blossoms Fall
by Shiroiyuki3
Summary: On a summer's day Ichigo happens upon a young woman who looks surprisingly like Rukia, saving her from a Hollow's attack. The mystery is further amplified when he learns she can see him in his Shinigami form. Could she be the one Byakuya has searched for?
1. Chapter One

**Where Cherry Blossoms Fall**

Chapter One:

On a bright summer day of sunlight and simplicity, she swept the narrow steps of Hisakawa Shrine, gathering the pink snowflakes dropped by sakura trees above. She was named for them, these trees heavy with perfumed flowers, by a mother she hardly remembered. It was perhaps her greatest heartbreak, the loss of Reika Hisakawa. Her mother's face but a mere blur of color across the pages of her mind.

Barely two when her mother died, this woman had suffered the worst kind of loss. One without any happy memories to cling to. Her father, too, had abandoned her after a fashion, left to an uncle reluctant to take her in.

Reluctant to accept her bizarre situation. The same misfortune which had cost a father's love.

Sakura Hisakawa paused mid-sweep, the wind brushing her cheek in such a way as to alarm her. It always happened like this, she knew, whenever one of _them_ were around.

Ever since she was a child. When they'd come to her chamber and haunt her so, clinging to the girl as if a beacon on a moonless night. Drawn to her living flame.

It was several years before she realized the people visiting her weren't really people at all. The conversations they shared, their friendships, all deemed crazy in the eyes of those who couldn't see. She'd caused problems at school. On the playground. At home.

That's when her father left.

Her episodes always began the same way. First the pin pricks on her neck, unnatural cold rushing up her spine. Then the panic, the feeling of something watching her. Most were kind enough but the girl knew that many were malevolent, dangerous. The potential threat kept her weary.

Spirits. Cosmic fluctuations. Small shifts in the balance of life. Sakura was forbidden to talk about her peculiar situation, of course, but it made it no less real.

The woman clutched the bamboo of her broom as if her world depended on it, stiff and unwilling to look anywhere but its handle. This one felt different somehow. A huge gaping hole, festering and hungry. All her senses were on edge.

Evil. Sinking, twisted evil. She closed her eyes, willing it gone.

"Rukia," a voice penetrated her concentration, furrowing her brow. "What the hell? The Hollow's this way!"

Sakura opened her eyes and turned toward the sound. A man, younger than herself by a few years, stood waiting, wearing a death shroud. The woman couldn't help but let confusion get the better of her, taking in his unusual appearance, so unlike the white and red of her miko attire. The blackness of fabric was overwhelming.

"I'm sorry?"

"What's with your clothes," the man was asking, lowering the long sword he carried in a hand. He'd wandered closer, screwing up his face in befuddlement. "Where'd you even find these?"

Sakura shook out of her stupor. "Uh..?"

A roar of inhuman magnitude shook the trees around them, cutting loose several pink petals. They dusted the freshly swept pathway. The smart _clack_ of bamboo hitting stone soon followed.

The man forgot his previous doubt. Brandishing his weapon, he dashed back toward the forest mouth. It was only as he leapt past the ornamental stone border did he turn and address Sakura once more.

"Rukia! Come _on!_"

"I...what? No, I'm not -"

Giving up, the man cursed, chasing after that horrible monstrous sound.

Her senses overwhelmed, veins running cold as ice, Sakura simply stared at the spot the strange orange-haired man had disappeared into. Her broom lay forlorn on the stonework, pink sprinkled across the bamboo.

Was that what she'd felt before, the thing screaming beyond the trees? Such an evil thing to behold. The woman took a few steps backward. Fear consumed her heart. The weight of such a soul pressed down on her. Her mind swam with the stink of it.

Suddenly her foot faltered on stone. A moment's slip, a break of luck. The woman fell to the ground, soreness spreading from her hip in a sharp wave of pain. The beginnings of a bruise was forming, stone cutting into her flesh. Something sticky had the silk of her hakama sticking to her leg.

Sakura yelled out in agony.

And then it was upon her, a towering beast of black and white, teeth razor-sharp and gaping in a face so inhuman it couldn't have been real. Yards from her prone form it screamed again, that terrible shrieking hunger freezing her to the spot.

"Oh _god_," she managed. "No..."

It charged her, its terrible black mouth spreading in anticipation.

"_AHHHHH!_"

As the beast lunged, Sakura shut her eyes tightly against her dark fate. "Help me!"

The swish of blade caught her ears, a peeling scream soon after. A familiar voice pulsated in her dazed mind as she cried softly against the cool stone.

"Getsuga_ Tenshō!_ " It shouted with conviction. Metal found purchase against heavy flesh, organic tearing echoing through Sakura's mind.

When danger seemed at last a memory, the woman dared to look at the battle before her.

There was that boy again. His orange hair unmistakable. The close proximity of his strange black robes enough to make her heart fill with joy. Sakura watched helplessly as he raced toward the horrible creature again, cutting into its neck. Strange black blood sputtered out upon impact, elliciting a curdling shriek.

As if sucked into Hell itself, the creature was no more.

The boy released his sword to its fabric scaffold, eyes fixated on the empty space which had once held his opponent. He didn't seem to see Sakura laying there, dumbfounded.

He'd saved her. How the man did so or who he was didn't matter in this moment. She was still alive because of _him_.

Part of her wondered if this man was indeed real. It wouldn't have been the first time she'd been wrong, speaking to someone while others gawked and saw no one. Interacting with someone not knowing they were ghosts.

She looked around at the serene clearing, so unlike the macabre scene moments ago. At this time of day when school was in progress and jobs were at their peak, the shrine was quiet. Hardly a visitor came to pray these days. Hardly anyone suffered the many stairs to Heaven.

It all seemed so unreal. Perhaps it was.

Perhaps the man _was_ just a lost spirit. It would explain his clothing. The sword. But Sakura had never seen a soul behave in such a way before; it frightened her.

The man tightened his jaw and sniffed, turning away from the monster's grave, finally locking eyes on the woman.

"Rukia?" He seemed just as surprised as she, his face screwed up in a frown. "You were here the whole time? Why didn't you attack?"

"Attack," she repeated lamely. The pain in her side suddenly reminded her that she was hurt. Sakura winced.

The man noticed. "Did you seriously fall?"

"Yeah," she allowed him to help her up after a fashion, awkward to be touched by a physical hand. So he wasn't a spirit after all. Then what was he? "What was that thing?"

The man screwed his face up again, as if she'd just grown another head. "Seriously? Um...It was a Menos..."

It seemed to Sakura that this odd fellow was waiting for her assent. When she made no such attempt, he backed up and seemed to be looking at her for the first time. His eyes scanned her face, locked onto her eyes, ran their way down her hair, her clothing...and rested on the swell of bosom beneath her robes.

"Whoa," the man let out a breath of disbelief.

Red in the face, Sakura swiftly turned away. Shame made rigid her features. Her voice shook with propriety. "I beg your pardon!"

"You're not Rukia, are you?"

"No!"

The woman glanced behind her shoulder, her eyes catching the man's shock. He seemed genuinely confused. Relaxing somewhat at the misunderstanding, Sakura allowed herself to turn slowly back around. Her arms crossed protectively in front of her chest.

"I take it I look like some friend of yours?"

The man nodded, eyes having a hard time looking away from the only feature telling them apart. "You could...say that."

"Stop staring."

"Sorry, it's just _bizarre_."

The man slowly circled around her, taking it all in. Now that he looked closely, this woman did have several differences from the Rukia he knew. Besides the very obvious one.

Her hair was slightly longer, more curled at the ends. Her eyes less open and round, matured, like two white almonds swept up in black and violet.

Her face was more feminine, softer. And she was taller than Rukia. Well, to be fair, _most_ women were taller than Rukia. But it was distinctly unnerving to see someone look so similar stand past his shoulder.

Tall and gracefully thin, this one. Pretty cute in her kimono and hakama, too.

"So what was that thing, really?" The woman's voice cut through his musings, making his eyes snap up once more from their default position on her chest. "Are there more of them?"

"How can you see me?"

Annoyed that he'd circumvented her question, Sakura rolled her eyes. "Because you're standing in front of me."

"What? No, I mean, how can you _see me? _Aren't you Human?" The man thought better of it at the onset of her anger and amended, "I mean, no _normal_ Human could see me. Or that Hollow."

"What's a Hollow?"

Okay, this was getting nowhere. "What's your name?"

The sudden question made her bristle. "Why?"

"Just tell me your n-"

"Yo, Ichigo!" A boyish female voice called from the green cloak of forest. Within seconds swift feet drew near.

Suddenly she appeared in the clearing, like a small mirror to Sakura's eyes, clad in black like the boy. The morbid surprise painted across her face mimicked that of the other woman's. The two stood yards apart, each shocked beyond words.

"My god," Sakura breathed after a lifetime. _She looks like me..._

The woman vaguely registered two warm hands finding purchase on her back as the world went black.


	2. Chapter Two

**Where Cherry Blossoms Fall**

Chapter Two:

_When a soul dies, it is taken to Heaven._

_But what place is there to go, should it die again?_

It was a question he often thought on, sitting alone in the confines of his office, a question many in the Soul Society asked. It was common belief that the soul would simply be reincarnated to the Human world. Some, that it would be reborn into this one.

Others believed the soul would be lost, forever.

Byakuya Kuchiki was one for the first school of thought; a sentiment only recently adapted since the passing of his wife. It was his dearest and most private wish to be reunited with Hisana one day, somewhere, to see her smiling face and breathe in her scent of flowers once more.

These past fifty years had been somewhat of a struggle for Byakuya. He'd never found her, not in all his secret wanderings of the Human world.

So many faces, so many spiritual markers, none familiar. None Hisana.

He stared out into his courtyard of camellia and cherry trees, watching the pink sun set on Seireitei. Perhaps his wife truly was lost to him forever.

No, not entirely.

Heaving a great sigh, the man's eyes locked onto another face, so much like the first, as it came into view. The girl crossed the courtyard below with an air of trepidation. Rukia, his adopted sister. Rukia, forever the source of his pain.

So much like her sister in looks, the opposite in personality.

At first he'd honored his wife's wishes by taking this girl in, keeping a close watch over the sister she'd never found, the sister which had haunted his beautiful bride until her death bed. It was a promise he'd kept out of love.

But the decision had cost much more for the man.

All those years ago when Byakuya had glimpsed this woman at the Shinō Academy, he'd mistaken her for Hisana. How raw a pain to find it was the sister. How hard it was to live with this woman day in and day out, a rebellious heart hoping that one day she could be her.

A knock on his door sometime later did not surprise the man. Nor did her hasty apology for interrupting his work. After a studied moment gazing out the window, the man finally met her worried eyes.

"Brother," she said, the title so awkward for a woman with his late wife's face, "My Captain requested I share my report of a recent trip to the Human Realm, sir."

So succinct. So organized. Her words held respect but nothing more. Pure torture to be so close to this woman and not hear Hisana's gentle voice.

"Perhaps the Captain should call upon me himself?" A simple question, eyes discreetly searching for any traces of a woman long gone. Byakuya often tested this girl, to be met with disappointment.

Rukia flustered. Clearly she was uncomfortable. She so often was. But her duty was to Ukitake, her job important. "I'm sorry, Brother, but my Captain is...somewhat disposed, sir."

Ah. So the man's illness kept him to his bed again. It happened every so often.

The sudden worry in this girl's eyes spoke volumes for the love of another man. Why couldn't they hold such love for Byakuya? Why couldn't she have been Hisana all those years ago, the day he stumbled upon her at Shinō?

Anger at a cruel world chipped away the man's soul.

"Very well," he simply replied, not sparing this woman another glance.

The sun had almost set completely outside, setting ablaze the pink and white trees, carving paths on the stone below. A few shinigami gathered into groups of twos and threes, chatting amongst friends. They peppered his courtyard.

Byakuya stared at them, stared at a life he could no longer afford. What would it be like to laugh and take the world in stride? So carefree?

"Sir, Ichigo and I were separated during a routine sweep of Karakura Town. A powerful Hollow was plaguing the souls in the area and while chasing it, Ichigo stumbled upon...someone he mistook for myself."

Byakuya froze. His eyes had been scanning the carpets of gold and pink below his window, but now they saw nothing. Nothing but the past. His pulse quickened. Could this woman hear the way it pounded in his chest?

The man said nothing, adapting a false indifference.

"Upon further inspection, sir, it was clear this woman was not me after all. But," Rukia suddenly became very aware of how crazy she sounded. The word drifted off into silence.

She was so mad at her Captain for ordering her to tell her brother this. Why was it so important? That human girl fainted as soon as she saw Rukia; she had no spiritual prowess. Even when Ichigo had Kon carry her back to the shrine it was clear the woman posed no danger.

"But she saw Ichigo, sir. She saw the Hollow."

Byakuya said nothing, a cold statue looking out his window. Feeling the need to fill the silence, Rukia continued.

"Brother, my Captain wishes to inform you of her location, so that you may check on the status of this woman yourself. Make sure she offers no threat."

"Where?" The word was too quiet, too forced. Rukia noticed the sudden dip in atmosphere.

"Hisakawa Shrine."

The man barely registered Rukia as she bowed and quit the room.

His heart beat rapidly for several long minutes afterward, even as the small form of Rukia danced between the drifting masses below, even as his eyes lost sight of her past the tree line of his courtyard.

Karakura Town. Hisakawa Shrine. Suddenly the man's path was clear.


	3. Chapter Three

**Where Cherry Blossoms Fall**

Chapter Three:

_It was snowing again, slow pink petals that drifted forever with the breeze. Each breath of wind held their fragrance. Held her contentment. The day was filled with pink. Soft clouds fluttered all around her, pooled in silky puddles on her lounging form. _

_She inhaled the sweetness of it all, closed her eyes and let the perfume fill her completely. How long had it been since she'd last indulged in a moment? Last let the pleasures of summer wash over her? Warmth danced across her brow where dappled sunlight fell. It made her sleepy. She snuggled into its embrace._

_Laughter somewhere far away caught her ears. So peaceful. She wanted to stay like this forever. Forever beneath the cherry trees. Forever, with him..._

Sakura woke to an empty antechamber, curled into a ball on the tatami floor. It had been nothing but a dream. How relaxing a dream it was, so familiar. The woman felt sluggish, dehydrated. How long had she been asleep?

At first she couldn't decide where she was, what time it could be. The last thing she could remember was sweeping the steps. But alas, even that could have been the wanderings of her sleeping mind.

The sound of birds came easily through the open door. Wind chimes tinkled lazily in the fresh mountain breeze. The old wood doors had been slid open completely to let the air in, care taken to ensure their delicate shoji panels remained unharmed. Sunlight baked the stone pathway beyond the covered porch. Little animals scurried from bush to bush, collecting the nuts of an overhead walnut tree.

She was in the tea house Sakura knew all at once. The curve of the stone path, the cut of the manicured greenery. Things she'd known from childhood. A sudden sharp note of bamboo hitting stone sounded further down the courtyard, the old fountain emptying its cache of stream.

How did she get here?

A low table not too far off offered her a recently made cup of tea, its kettle sitting on a little tray. Steam unfurled slowly above the liquid, seductive in invitation. It made her mouth go slack.

The woman sat up and scooted over, tucking her hakama under legs, looking around for her uncle. Surely all this was his doing. Although the last time Tetsuno Hisagawa did anything for her was the day they'd first met, the day her father had abandoned her. The old man had given her a small crane he'd made out of washi paper. It had little pink sakura blossoms and fish scales in red.

But that was before he'd learned of her curse. The spirits. Everything.

A dark throbbing began across her hip as the woman settled into a seated position. Something dangerous crept back into her foggy mind, a fragment of memory perhaps, a wisp of a dream. It sparked a foreign feeling of loss within her.

Sakura couldn't remember why but she just knew there'd be a bruise there.

"Uncle?" she called. No answer. How unlike him to bring her here. This was the tea house in which he entertained prized guests. When their ancestors first cleared the mountain outlet, laying down the slab stones, putting down the foundation to this very shrine...the tea house had be built. It was ancient, memory-rich. Wood as strong as steel.

The tea house was also above all else forbidden to her and her peculiar situation. She drank the tea to ease her parched lips. "Uncle Tetsuno? Are you there?"

The chimes rang hard suddenly, a gush of air swaying the small hanging lantern above the table. She hadn't noticed it was lit until the wind had blown out the flame. Smoke billowed solemnly down to her.

"Uncle?"

That old familiar feeling crept over her, spreading a cold chill up her spine. A spirit was close by. The tendrils of its presence seeped into the room and caressed her heart.

Sakura was deftly aware that something about this particular soul seemed familiar. A feeling, warm and sad, flooded her heart. The woman found herself longing for a dream.

Unseen to her, behind the trunk of a cherry tree, a Shinigami watched.


	4. Chapter Four

**Where Cherry Blossoms Fall**

Chapter Four:

Sipping from a cup of sake the man peered down at his latest creation, the makings of a new gigai the world had yet to see.

It was pure art, spread out in several parts on the small table before him, a hand here, a foot there. Musculature draped like red ribbon around a skeletal frame. So lifelike, real. _So_ real in fact that it was already beginning to closely resemble the body of a former colleague. Odd, that. It almost seemed to have developed its own personality...

The man smiled proudly at the culmination of a life's work, holding the macabre doll out at arms length before he put the skin on. This gigai was completely able to withstand extended stays in the Human Realm. Capable of blending a Shinigami in flawlessly amongst humans. Capable of perfection.

Kisuke Urahara had a feeling such a thing would be necessary very soon. With careful stitches, the man did up one length of arm in flesh.

The sound of the shop's bell sounded just as Kisuke adjusted his striped hat. A smile tugged at his lip. Very, very soon indeed.

"Ah, Captain, thought you might stop by. Go ahead and take a seat. Perhaps I'll get Ururu to fetch some tea?"

Byakuya tensed for a fraction of a moment, annoyed at the other man's unnerving sense of prediction and his idle chatter. The shop owner hadn't turned to show his respect at all, rather indicated with a quick hand the empty spot at the table. Much too busy to be distracted.

Keeping all trace of emotion from his voice, Byakuya spoke. He hadn't moved from the door frame despite the other man's enthusiastic offer.

"I was led to believe your...expertise...in the Human Realm would be capable of assisting me. Was I wrong to assume this?"

Urahara put down his masterpiece, almost finished now, and turned toward the man blocking the light in his doorway. "Depends on what you're looking to achieve."

There was an underlining tone coloring the unkempt man's words, humor forever adding a smile to his face. Even under that ridiculous hat and those long unruly bangs Byakuya could see the Devil at play with his patience. Those grey eyes danced and danced.

Mischief purred, "Perhaps you're planning to visit the local temples? Indeed, I hear the festivals this time of year are breathtaking..."

Byakuya looked down in poorly masked disdain. He remained relatively cool, Urahara thought, despite his attempts to arouse a little fun.

"Do not mistake me, Urahara Kisuke. The only reason I've come is due to your recent help in matters concerning Soul Society; my gratitude does not extend to friendship of any kind."

All right, Hat-and-Clogs thought, turning down his special brand of charm. "So what can I help you with today, Captain?"

Byakuya had what most would call a uncomfortable moment, but on the man seemed more like a simple pause in resolve. He didn't seem capable of looking at this ridiculous man while he softly replied, "I am in need of a gigai."

"You've come to the right place." That devious pirate smile spread on his pale face like a crack into Hell. "Have a seat, Captain; I'm almost finished."

Several hours later, under a canopy of ginko and maple, Byakuya sat unseen near the stonework of Hisakawa Shrine. He contemplated his life and the actions leading up to this moment. It was a chore he very seldom did but one he couldn't avoid at this impasse.

He had his gigai. He had every reason to meet the woman sweeping the courtyard below.

So then what was the problem?

The man watched her push pink sakura blossoms together into a pile as more floated around her. So futile, he thought. Why spend time doing something that in moments would be undone?

And then a gentle breeze struck her hair and he knew. The beauty of that simple gesture stole his breath.

He'd indulge her anything if only to see her like this. The very image of his Hisana, every detail there as if borne from a dream. It was incredibly unnerving. Here was a woman so familiar, so devastatingly imprinted into his mind and soul, and yet...so incredibly different than the women he once knew. A miko outfit, red hakama. Priestess clothing. Simple, raw silk that was low grade if that. So unlike the delicate silk Hisana would wear.

And she did chores, something he'd never require of his wife.

The truth hit Byakuya like ice water to an empty stomach. Here was the woman he'd been longing for these last fifty years, but now she carried with her a whole new set of memories. A new personality. He didn't even know what her name was! How could he face that?

She might reject him. Or worse, she might be already claimed. The weight of that settled heavily on his shoulders.

His eyes caressed this woman's body with a hunger he hadn't anticipated. How he missed her, his Hisana. How crushed he'd be if this new woman could not be her again. Fear crept up into his pores, ran cold down his spine.

Here on this hill Byakuya could watch her forever, keep the joy of this moment pure, unadulterated. Should he really risk everything by speaking to her? Risk waking from a beautiful dream?

Sakura finished up, depositing her broom in an alcove near the shrine's living quarters and office. Why her uncle insisted on sweeping anything during the height of the season she would never know. In truth she only did it to get away for awhile, to be free of her living quarters and the whispered conversations of the other miko, but the woman enjoyed the work in its own way. Enjoyed the pink blooms. Enjoyed the fresh air.

A few patrons had finally made the long pilgrimage to the shrine, bowing to her quickly as they walked past. The priestess attire demanded respect from them despite their fear. She bowed back, wincing as her hip throbbed with pain. The mystery of that and waking in the tea house had still not been solved, but perhaps it was best to move forward. Nothing ever came from dwelling on the past.

"Welcome," Sakura greeted accordingly. "Thank you for coming."

The woman crossed the courtyard toward the purification house. Her bucket and rag were caged beneath a loose board near the base, somewhere out of the way, somewhere Uncle Tetsuno wouldn't notice.

She bowed to a passing couple. It was then she noticed the man watching her.

The first thing she could think of was how familiar he seemed, how her pulse sped up slightly when their eyes met. Even from such a distance, with the worshippers drifting between them like a river, Sakura felt the pull of his gaze. He looked so lost and helpless in that moment. It broke her heart.

He wore the nondescript clothing of any young man in Karakura Town; simple t-shirt, simple pants. Unremarkable shoes.

But something about the silver adorning his hair and those dark penetrating eyes stuck a cord. His gaze searched her, seared into her soul.

Suddenly a small old woman bumped into Sakura's arm by accident. She looked down as the flustered woman threw a quick apology, fumbling over her luck charms.

"No, it's alright," the priestess assured her. A moment's distraction. A breath of time.

Sakura returned her gaze to where the man had been and frowned. She discretely searched the path toward the oratory and the main shrine house beyond that. Her eyes swept the path which led back through the Torii gates and down the mountain.

He was gone. Could he have been just another spirit?

The wind decided to blow at that moment, tossing her hair about her face. But the tell-tale chill she usually felt was gone, replaced by a flowering warmth hidden deep in her heart. A feeling she couldn't quite name overcame her. Was it anticipation?

Standing there, a stone in the sea of pilgrimages, Sakura knew in her heart she'd meet him again.


	5. Chapter Five

**Where Cherry Blossoms Fall**

Chapter Five:

His heart was racing. In an instant he knew the familiar curve of her face. Knew the grace of her delicate form. All the anticipation riding on this encounter crested suddenly; the man felt its tangible pull.

It was her. His Hisana.

Fifty years. Byakuya felt an errant tear fall down his cheek. With practiced austerity, the man wiped it away without losing her silhouette in the crowd. Fifty years since he'd seen his young bride.

This was the moment which would decide his whole future, which path would be his to take. Byakuya had never felt fear until this day.

And then...

And then, in a tender moment his eyes found hers and it was...kismet. Even from this distance Byakuya's heart soared. It was as if these last fifty years had disappeared. All the heartbreak, all the sorrow, the loneliness; the gentle caress of her gaze washed it all away.

It was in those violet eyes that he saw his future. He was home. He found himself lost in her gaze.

So then why had the man fled while she was distracted?

Byakuya Kuchiki leaned back against the trunk of an elm tree, cradling his head in two shaky hands. He'd panicked. Perhaps he didn't deserve this second chance after all. To be a coward was to be without love. It was the worst dishonor he could bestow.

Above him a few crows judged his plight with their cackling laughter. The man shot a jet of reiatsu at them and watched the birds scatter off into a stretch of perfect sky. It was the same seamless blue which had captivated him all those long years ago. The day he'd first met Hisana. Byakuya fondly remembered the youthful innocence he once held.

That man of the past had no problem pursuing the woman of his dreams. How Byakuya envied him. It was a time before the devastation of loss.

Then again, he hadn't known the pleasures of love, either.

The captain closed his eyes. Although brief, he wouldn't trade those five years with Hisana for anything, even if it meant never having to lose her, never having to feel despair. He regretted nothing. If only for a day, a moment, he'd feel her in his arms again.

She was worth any pain.

Sighing, Byakuya collected himself and stood. Even with his new-found confidence he still didn't know what he'd do once confronted with her. Tell her the truth and she'd despise him. Tell her nothing and he'd despise himself.

The man looked up to that crystalline sky again. Infinity stretched out before him. The world was open to be tamed.

Sakura bowed to a small group of patrons walking past the purification house and out toward the Torii gates.

"Have a safe journey home."

No one responded. No one ever did.

"Thank you for coming."

The sun had begun to set over the mountain, dipping the world into crisp orange paint under black trees and peaked roofs. The heat of the day began to fade with the addition of a cool evening breeze. Soon the shrine grounds would be clear, she knew, as worshippers made their long trek back to Karakura Town.

Soon she'd be alone to clean up. The other Miko Uncle Tetsuno had hired lived off-site and were decidedly part time; never coming in on weekends, never working late hours due to school, never helping out with anything besides the souvenir shop.

Even that had fallen on Sakura today when Chisa cut out early to be with her boyfriend and Kumiko left complaining of a headache.

But something seemed off.

The pain in her hip throbbed at the memory of it. Lost time. Waking in the tea house.

It felt wrong to have no recollection of how she ended up in that place. According to Kumiko, Sakura hadn't been seen by her or Chisa for about two hours before the woman just "showed up" to check on the souvenir booth. They figured she was off cleaning something or being odd. Kumiko, always the superstitious one, was careful not to make contact with Sakura in the cramped space.

"See ya," the taller woman called as she dashed out, leaving a bewildered Sakura behind.

"Bye," Sakura said mostly to herself. Kumiko had already disappeared into the night.

Alone the woman watched the long rows of lanterns come on across the courtyard. At one time they'd been lit by candle, but Uncle Tetsuno would have none of that now. Was it sacrilege to have their ancestor's lamps wired for electricity? Sakura wanted to say yes but it wasn't in her nature to judge.

Sighing, she dutifully took up station amongst the rows of charms, ornamental bamboo cups, painted fans with the Hisakawa kanji stamped on, and little wooden ema boards. Listlessly she flipped one board over to look at its blank side. If she wrote a wish on it, would her prayers be answered?

It was silly but, taking up a length of pen and dipping it quickly into the inkwell set up for customers, Sakura began to write.

_...and never again feel alone._

A shadow fell over her just as pen lifted off wood. Her hands quickly scrambled the board away, thrown beneath the shoddy counter of their souvenir shop.

"Welcome, may I help you?"

The woman looked up, ready for business. Her eyes widened in surprise as the face she'd seen before was mere inches away.

His eyes were heathered charcoal in the amber light. Silver glinted from the strange hair ornaments adorning his face. As the sunset at last drained beneath the tree-lined curve of Karakura Town, the man spoke.

"Yes, I am sure you can."


	6. Chapter Six

**Where Cherry Blossoms Fall**

Chapter Six:

Every moment spent with her seemed the most natural thing. There was a hunger in his gaze as Byakuya watched the woman blush and offer the charms he'd requested on impulse, slender hands just as beautiful as he remembered. How soft they were, those hands. How many times had they held his cheek with endearment?

No, the man corrected himself with guilt, not those hands. Not yet, anyway. There'd be time enough for that soon if he was successful in courting his bride again. How he ever survived these last fifty years without her, he couldn't fathom to know.

The bashful flick of the woman's violet eyes on his sent chills down Byakuya's spine. She was searching his face for something.

_Remember_, the man silently pleaded. _Remember, Hisana_. _Please remember our love..._

"Is that all for you tonight, sir?" Sakura asked, breaking his concentration. His eyes had been running up the exquisite curve of her face.

Suddenly remembering the purchase he'd feigned in order to talk with her, Byakuya shook his head. He needed more time. "No, I'd also like..." _To marry you again_, his devious mind finished. The woman's pleasant smile knew nothing of his inner struggle. Nor of the loneliness he'd felt every day without her near.

He felt her heavy gaze upon him and looked up. The woman seemed to be trying to place him, figure out why he looked so familiar. Hope swelled in his chest. _Remember, Hisana._

Swallowing the knot in his throat, the man picked the first item in view. "That."

_Stupid. _Byakuya watched in muffled horror as Sakura held up the small daruma doll in her hand. It was wildly exaggerated in face, without eyes, painted completely in red. This particular one was for children. The man privately scolded his impulsive choice.

Why on earth was he behaving so moronically? Could he spend even a _moment_ without making a fool of himself around this woman?

"This?" Sakura caught herself before laughing. Surely such a handsome man wasn't in need of a child's toy? "Of course, um...shall I wrap it for you?"

"Wrap?" He repeated lamely. His brow wrinkled in confusion.

"It's a gift, isn't it?"

Byakuya quickly clutched onto this small bit of luck. "Yes, right, a gift." Feeling the need to fill the sudden silence the man added, "for a friend's...son. Ichigo. It's...his birthday."

_Stupid_, he once again chided. Now he'd been reduced to lying. The man inwardly groaned. Why had Ichigo been the first name to pop into his head? Ichigo wasn't a very common name as far as Byakuya knew.

And that infernal boy was from Karakura Town; what would Byakuya do if this woman happened to know him?

Sakura paused for a moment, deja vu simmering in her mind. _Ichigo_...where had she heard that name before? It certainly sounded familiar. This man also seemed painfully familiar. For some reason all she wanted to do was hold his hand...

Masking her shameful thoughts, the woman carefully set the daruma in a box. She turned to him suddenly.

"How old is he?"

"What?" Byakuya felt panic consume him. Why did she want to know his age? Certainly he couldn't tell her the truth. What were the chances of finding another Ichigo who happened to be fifteen years old?

Perhaps she knew that dreadful boy after all. Byakuya was getting over his head in this. Thinking quickly he mumbled, "eight." It hurt to lie to her.

The woman smiled gently. "Eight, that's a good age. Here," she took a small horse figurine off a shelf behind her and put it next to the daruma doll, safe in the little box. "I'm sure Ichigo would love this very much."

At the hesitation in the man's eyes Sakura waved his doubt away. "Oh, no please, I won't charge you. Don't worry about that. Let it be my gift to him."

God, he loved her smile. The woman smiled with her whole heart. It broke his to be so close to her, have her not know the truth of who he was.

With a skill Byakuya had to admire, Sakura elaborately wrapped the box in washi paper and then tied the whole confection with a square of silk. It was beautiful to behold. The Hisakawa Shrine obviously was successful to afford such wealth.

Watching her in this perfect moment, the man felt pride bloom in his heart. His Hisana always had such a fine talent for flair. Art came naturally to the beautiful of mind. It hardly surprised him that her reincarnation would be just as talented.

"There, just for little Ichigo. Wish him a happy birthday for me, okay?"

"How much do I owe you?" Byakuya couldn't keep his eyes off of her own, loving the familiar violet. The same eyes which haunted his dreams.

A smile played at his lips. It amazed him that he'd found her after so many years. She was real, standing just inches from him. She was alive.

"Twelve hundred yen," she said kindly. "Seven hundred for the charms and five for the daruma."

After the money was exchanged and the present box and charms rested in his care, Byakuya felt the well of disappointment opening a hole in his heart. He had to leave her now. How could he go without confessing that he'd never stopped loving her? Without taking her back to Seireitei? Without even asking her name?

He'd set out to find her and make her his again, but nothing had gone according to plan.

The woman bowed her thank you for his purchase. This was it...he needed to do something. Say something.

The man found himself at a loss for words. So many things to tell her, five decade's worth of planning for this moment. Why had his mouth gone so dry?

"Thank you," her voice was like warm honey to his ears. Hisana's voice. A voice he'd been missing. "Please have a safe journey home."

Byakuya looked down at this delicate woman, wrapped in the white and red attire of her station. The color brought out her eyes. In the lantern light their violet danced only for him. Still she searched his face. Still she felt the pull of memory, taunting her, forever losing hold on solid ground. It was clear this woman was trying to remember him. Her gaze begged him not to leave her alone.

Suddenly Byakuya knew his path. It would certainly work...wouldn't it?

"His-" Byakuya caught himself from saying her name. How would it feel to call his woman anything else? "_Miss..._Have we met...before?"

If Sakura hadn't ducked her head to cover her blush, she may have noticed the conspiratorial glint in the man's eyes.

"You...you do seem very familiar. May I ask your name?"

The man smiled, the first time in forever. The plan was working brilliantly. Later, much later, after he got this woman to fall in love with him again, he'd tell her the truth. But for now he needed to keep up the charade.

"Kuchiki Byakuya."

The woman started at the words. Cherry blossoms suddenly filled her vision, hands held together under a cerulean sky. Whispered endearments echoed in her memory. Warmth spread deep in her heart. Instinctively she touched her cheek where a tender kiss might have been laid, several moons ago.

Dizzy and a little anxious, the woman smiled. "It does seem like I know you. I'm Hisakawa Sakura, by the way. It's nice to meet you."

Sakura. He'd have to practice using such a foreign name for his beloved. Sakura. _Sakura._

Both stood beneath the warm glow of lanterns, the night suddenly full of promise.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Where Cherry Blossoms Fall**

Chapter Seven:

Morning draped its luscious curtain across the mountain, birds chirping energetically in the rapidly changing light. The air tasted of dew, brisk and green. The woman rolled to her side beneath the comforter, snuggling into the futon below. It felt too good to get up today.

As dawn approached, and the sweet chill of morning dissipated, Sakura dreamed.

Her mind took her on a journey to another place, somewhere far away and long ago, where the idea of lounging beneath trees and laughing in the sunlight embraced her eagerly.

_All above her they scattered gently, like snow, fluttering in the lofty breeze. Cherry blossoms, pink and ripe and everywhere. Like delicate notes on the wind they danced to their own graceful rhythm. _

_She watched one float down like a cloud, falling to dust her kimono. The woman took it in her hand and breathed deep the soft petal's scent. So sweet. _

_A masculine voice reached her through the haze. Words of endearment. His hand held her shoulder where she lay in the crook of his arm. She heard the smile in his voice. The light played with his features as he spoke to her, taking another petal gently from her hair. He, too, breathed in its bouquet, relishing in the light addition of her unique perfume._

_In the brightness the woman could make out only his eyes, watching her with love. In a breathless moment her hand found his. Fingers entwined sweetly. Her heart soared. And those eyes, so kind, so beautiful, held her in their grey depths. "Forever", he told her, kissing her cheek. _

_"I shall love you forever...Hisana."_

Sakura woke with a start. For a moment she didn't know where she was. Fragments of memory stirred her, left her wanting. Sounds which had been dampened by sleep flooded back to her ears.

Birds outside her window sang the song of morning. She listened to them, held onto this rock as the sea of confusion swam past. Something scuttled outside on the engawa between her room and the path to the main office buildings. The woman turned at the sound. Experience told her it would be a squirrel, but her senses were on edge.

That dream remained affecting her. The details had simmered away, fuzzy and faded with time. But the emotions coursing through her heart imprinted their memory.

Light filtered in through slots of wood and shoji. Warmth which promised a humid day trickled into the room.

Sitting up on her bedding, the woman rubbed sleep from her eyes and stretched.

It had been just a dream even though it seemed so real. How strange to be swept away by such a thing. She couldn't explain why it had left her so empty. Even as she got up and gathered the futon for airing out, Sakura's heart beat a rapid song of frustration.

She found herself longing for something unknown. The odd sensation kept her dizzy that morning, trying to decide what it all could have meant.

She could still feel the warmth of that man's arm around her. His voice like liquid sunlight. And those eyes, so grey, so beautiful...Sakura hadn't gotten a very clear look at them, and with each passing second they seemed to fade a little more, but in her heart she knew the intimacy of their gaze.

If she didn't know any better, the woman would have sworn it was the same man from the souvenir booth last night. But that was impossible. She'd only just met him.

Byakuya Kuchiki. The name was familiar, yes, but to someone who could see and converse with spirits, familiarity meant very little. Maybe it only sounded similar to another name she'd heard in passing.

Sakura wouldn't admit the strange pull she had to the man. Why after only one meeting her heart now burnt a little candle in hopes of meeting again, when the idea was ludicrous. How many people came through the shrine? How many faces did she see in a day? She'd probably never see that man again.

Sighing, the woman dressed and put a kettle on.

This small shack was her private living quarters, complete with a bedroom that doubled as living space when she wasn't sleeping, a hearth, and an updated bathroom. Although modest it was enough for the young woman. A small alcove and a scroll sat at one end of the four-tatami sized room. On the other, away from the damaging light of the sun, an elaborate kimono hung to air out. It had been her mother's and her grandmother's before that.

Sakura had never worn it herself. It was fit for a princess, too delicate for everyday use, too rich for a festival. Her eyes danced across the pink silk, watched it bleed to pure white where plum blossoms played and cranes soared high. How she wished to see those long sleeves sway in the breeze.

It seemed the opportunity would never come.

During holidays and festivals, it was here in this small apartment the girl was instructed to stay. She never even went to her own coming of age festival. Uncle Tetsuno had made the necessary arrangements for Sakura to be well secluded from the rest of the shrine's facilities. To avoid "embarrassment", as he called the complications of her condition. The only time she was permitted to roam freely was during her duties as miko.

Her home was a good trek to the main stretch of Shrine buildings, and almost a half mile from the lodging houses beyond that.

In the seventh year she'd come to live at Hisakawa Shrine the old man had turned the ancestral home of Nobushige Hisakawa into a dormitory. Uncle Tetsuno had stripped the building of its wealth in history, replacing all the old wood and painted panels with modern drywall and metal beams to mimic that of an old-world flair. None of its previous beauty shined through now, Sakura thought. It was all too fake.

But this place, her place, was perfect the way it was. Over the years it had developed a personality all the money in the world could not recreate. Sipping her tea, Sakura closed her eyes and listened to the busy forest around her.

Elsewhere, a man showered. The water was still a bit too cold as it struck his shoulders, running errant paths down his back and past his hips. Byakuya hadn't gotten used to modern plumbing.

Either it was hot enough to scald flesh or cold enough to have his teeth chattering. At the moment the water fell somewhere in between, tolerable but only just. Out of fear that he'd end up with something much worse the man had left well enough alone.

The day had so far been full of new experiences.

Humans slept on beds so unlike his own. Metal frames made storing impossible. Taking them apart took far too long to be practical. The man had no idea how his servants did these chores day in and day out.

He'd gotten almost through the sheeting when Byakuya discovered the under padding to be unyielding. It simply wouldn't fold. Big, boxy, and cumbersome. Who had designed such a contraption?

Out of frustration he'd pulled the thing outside to the veranda and propped it bodily up against the building.

Then there was the issue of unfamiliar wildlife. He'd been sitting on the floor where his bed had previously laid, a strange high-pitched chirping suddenly sounding from the table. In a slash of metal and broken plastic Byakuya had killed the disturbing bird with his sword. From a curly string its remains hung bobbing and whirling in confusion. What kind of creature had it been? Certainly nothing natural.

In celebration of his victory, he'd gone to take a bath. What a surprise it had been to find a tall narrow cubicle were a proper tub should be! Byakuya had to ask the receptionist in the lobby how to fill it up.

She'd been very understanding despite her obvious shock.

"Good morning, sir," she'd said, brightly. The woman hadn't yet known Byakuya would ruin her day. "How are you enjoying your stay?"

"I find it adequate." The man lazily moved a strand of hair behind his shoulder, eliciting a soft appreciative sigh from the woman behind the counter. "I wonder if you might tell me how it is I'm supposed to fill my tub? It's rather...vertical."

"Uh..."

"I tried plugging the drain and closing the door, but the tub hardly held more than an inch of water. It appears there may be a problem with the door sealant."

"I'm sorry sir, but...um...it's a shower."

To his blank expression the woman's face twisted with discomfort.

"You know," she waved her manicured hand at him as if it were some inside joke, "a _shower_. You stand in it."

Byakuya made no attempt at understanding. Why would he want to stand in a tub?

"You...you turn on the water and...well...you stand there." The woman blushed profusely now, imagining the stunning man before her naked. Was he flirting with her?

"And then what?" Byakuya asked dryly. He was bored.

The young receptionist practically squirmed in embarrassment. This was torture! "And then, you, um...get some soap and w-wash..."

Instinctively her eyes dropped to the inevitable. Blush exploded on her face.  
>"Oh, no! No I can't, no! I'm engaged, sir!"<p>

"I see. But that still does not answer my question. How do I fill up the tub?"

"You...can't..."

"Ah. You're absolutely right. Please have one of your servants come to my room and prepare my bath instead." With that Byakuya headed back to his room, quite unimpressed. Why he had tried to live without servants was anyone's guess.

With eyes the size of saucers, the receptionist fainted.

Washing the soap from his long hair, the man leaned back and caught some of the tepid water on his face, wiping sleep from his skin. No one ever did come to his room. Out of desperation he'd played around with the odd combination of knobs and levers until water came out.

Today was going to be perfect. It had to be. Byakuya hadn't gone through so much trouble to have his plans fall apart again.

He was going to get Hisana back.

Upon Urahara's suggestion, Byakuya had rented a room at Hisakawa Shrine. How surprising it was to find a shrine open to vacationers. His last trip to the human world hadn't been privy such strange ways. Shrines were for priests and priestesses and no one else.

The accommodations weren't anything compared to Kuchiki manor, but it wasn't bad here. Better than living in a closet. How Rukia enjoyed staying with Ichigo, Byakuya would never try to understand. It was unnatural.

Posing as a young college man from a visiting town, the captain had successfully found a means to be near Hisana without over staying his welcome. As Urahara had pointed out, she'd be a lot more willing to accept his presence here if he played the part.

"No."

"Just think about it," the unkempt man lounged back against a pillow and folded his arm behind his head.

That damned hat was still keeping Byakuya from making eye contact. He eyed the shopkeeper's attire with a frown, instead. Inverted Captain's uniform, open informal clogs. Such a blatant insult to Soul Society.

A small cup of sake went up to Urahara's mouth and back down again.

"Say you just keep showing up there, day after day. Eventually this woman - Sakura, was it? - will start to wonder. No one visits a shrine that much anymore, especially when they aren't even praying.

"The fastest way to scare the girl off is to stalk her."

Byakuya looked at the door. Why had he even come? Whatever weakness had possessed him to seek this man out for advice had clearly abandoned him to his stupidity. "I cannot stalk my own wife."

"Wrong." Kisuke adjusted himself on the pillow, relaxing further into the downy plush. A sandaled foot shifted back and forth rhythmically as he smiled. "_Hisana_ was your wife. Sakura isn't."

At Byakuya's insistence otherwise, Urahara amended, "Sakura is the reincarnation of Hisana, true. But she knows nothing of your marriage to Hisana. Nothing of _you_, for that matter. And you really don't know her, either.

"Face it, Kuchiki; you're going to have to date your wife."

Perfectly reasonable for a young man on a budget to stay in a cheap, scenic venue, he went on to say. It would also explain Byakuya's being seen around the Shrine. Still, the proud man could not simply accept this.

"No."

Urahara smiled. His gray eyes danced suddenly beneath the rim of his hat, exposing their devious nature for all it was worth. "Don't think she'll fall in love with you again, do you?"

At this, Byakuya stood to leave.

"Don't worry," Kisuke called after him, choking on laughter and sake. "Sakura may not be Hisana, but that doesn't mean Hisana won't try to be Sakura."

Byakuya rounded on the shopkeeper. "And that means what, exactly?"

"Something tells me you already know."

"Excuse me."

With that, the Captain swept from the store, leaving a man in the hat behind to smile.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Where Cherry Blossoms Fall**

Chapter Eight:

It was snowing again, soft pink petals drifting lazily in the wind. The woman caught a few with her hand as she spun slowly in the shade of a tree. She closed her eyes. The air was so sweet today, bouquets of cherry blossoms warmed to a velvet liquor in the afternoon sun. Somewhere in the haze birds sang happily. Cicadas hummed in rythmic waves.

Into a soft pile of pink she gently fell, laughing freely, enjoying the tickle of grass beneath her kimono. All done with sweeping now, and yet never finished, Sakura smiled as pink dusted the ground she'd only just uncovered. In a moment the work of an hour was undone.

But how could she be upset by such a beautiful thing?

It was to this small grove that Sakura found herself wandering as she swept. The quietness of it drew her, the pure green grass dappled with sunlight called her name. Pristine fields rolled over small hills and formed channels around roots, pink dotted the sky.

The trees were at their peak today and the world was basking in their heady perfume. The woman knew all too well Karakura Town would be lined up for the busy parks, blankets hiding the grass, the crush of bodies obstructing the purity of viewing.

But here Sakura had found peace. For just a small moment she could believe that this was hers and hers alone, a private escape, a special slice of nature all to herself. Untouched by anyone save her.

The woman rolled to her side, propped up by an elbow, and ran her fingers along the long, cool grass. Butterflies soundlessly danced to their own time along the field, kissing the flowers, spreading light across their wings. In one luxurious sigh, Sakura lay back and spread out her arms beneath her.

Something about this seemed so familiar. The blossoms, white wings dancing in the corners of her vision, the excitement racing through her veins. A fragment of memory, a day in another's life.

Sakura looked up past the rush of pink trees and studied the deep blue sky.

That dream she'd had earlier flashed into memory again, the closeness of that man, the tenderness of his voice. Who was he? Why did Sakura long for him so? And that name, _Hisana_, so much like a whisper into the depths of her soul. _Hisana..._who was she?

Byakuya purposefully had taken the long, scenic route to where his wife would be sweeping, hoping for an encounter, practicing his surprise for when their paths would inevitably cross. But, she wasn't here.

The man searched high and low across the bounty of steps and courtyards, along the row of buildings, near the shrine facilities, near the gates, everywhere. Where was Hisana? _Sakura_, he forced himself to remember. _Sakura_. Would he ever get used to that name?

The man could almost hear Urahara's laughter at the mistake.

But then again, did it really matter? Soon she'd regain her memories as Hisana and go back to being his wife. Byakuya had no doubt of this. His mind had been made up some time ago, oh, back when he first laid eyes on her perhaps, that this woman would remember and love him and things would go back to being the way they were.

But this thought did nothing to ease his current predicament.

Slightly squashed in spirit, the man had given up his search and traced his steps back toward the lodging camp. Or at least, he thought he'd gone back towards camp…where he was now was anyone's guess.

He had become thoroughly lost. What was it about the living world that he couldn't navigate?

Byakuya stood in the middle of a length of forest, looking for anything familiar. Every tree seemed to mock him. Again, that damned Urahara laughed in the depths of his mind. So frustrating, that man.

Byakuya weighed his options.

Yes, he could ditch his gigai and simply fly back to the top of the mountain, but then someone might find the body laying here. Or he might need it later if he ever found Sakura...

Feeling silly, the man looked up toward the sky and tried to use the sun for reference. To the right Byakuya set out, over a few fields, down around a small stream, up a hill. He looked back up and was lost to the canopy of pink. Birds started chattering about his intrusion on their solitude. Byakuya narrowed his eyes.

Cutting across a narrow wood, he quickly found himself even more lost. Damn. A squirrel jumped hastily out of his path.

And that's when he heard the laughter. No longer was it the echo of Urahara's mocking that filled his ears.

Enchanted by its sweetness, Byakuya forgot about being lost. His heart was too anxious to beat. His breath hitched painfully in his throat. It was the laughter he'd known in both life and in dreams, the laughter he'd been missing.

Tears welled in his eyes as he crept behind a thick cherry tree. Until this moment he hadn't realized how much he'd missed it.

Slowly, he peaked around the tree.

There, in a bright clearing, she danced. Like an angel._ His _angel. Hisana. Scattering light from her shiny hair, catching the breeze with her kimono. Twirling, laughing, loving nature just as he remembered.

Byakuya caught himself before joining her, forced himself to remain soundless behind his tree.

In a puff of pink Hisana lay in a pile of cherry blossoms, smiling sweetly. Her hair tangled with petals but she didn't mind it. Flowers scattered all around her where she lay, propped by an elbow. She plucked one off the pool of red silk against her thigh and brought it to her nose, inhaled its sweetness.

The man suddenly felt the strings of memory pull at him. This was so familiar, the placement, the scene...

Their first encounter in Soul Society. Of course! But back then it had been him in the cherry blossoms of his own creation, and Hisana...

Byukuya straightened. Suddenly the man recognized Fate's hand when he saw the opportunity.

Carefully he left the tree and went back into the forest. Memories flooded his mind. Anticipation swirled into a painful symphony that shouted at him with each step. This was it, the moment he'd waited for. A little further, not too much more...

"Hello?" He called, remembering Hisana's frightened voice that night. How long it had been. "Please, is someone there?"

It was like an old, familiar dance, reenacting this moment. The stage was set, the lights had come on, and now he waited for his star…

From her bed of flowers, Sakura heard his voice. She started. It was such an unexpected intrusion on her quiet world that at first she wasn't sure if it were real. But soon its richness found her ears once more. Panic and something else gripped her. It was a voice she'd heard before. Her heart knew it before her mind.

"If someone's out there, I have lost my way and need help. Anyone? Please..."

Byakuya didn't mind putting himself into this feeble position. Not for her. Never for her. He'd do anything for Hisana. The man aimlessly walked about, waiting for the woman to take up her cue. _Come on, Hisana. Rescue me._

Sakura got up from where she laid, apprehensive, heart clenching at something indescribable. A strange, tickling sensation raced up her back and lingered in a blush across her cheek. It was like déjà vu, this feeling, as she crept through the trees toward the voice. Familiarity making her pulse race with expectation.

Dusty old memories flittered to the surface, her dreams and reality blending into one.

With a hand she pushed back an errant tree branch and stepped over a log, getting closer, feeling a tangible pull draw her near to him. Fragments of memory stirred breathlessly within her, a smile stealing her lips. And then, there he was.

Byakuya Kuchiki. Beautiful and tall beneath a plum tree. Eyes gazing intently into hers.

_Byakuya sama…_


End file.
